


étoiles chaudes et pensées froides

by natalie19h34



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Eliott's a soft sunshine here too, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Lucas feels lost and so does Eliott, M/M, but not much??, criminal!elu, ex-lovers to lovers?, i don't make the rules, the TINIEST droplet of blood, there are lethal weapons!, there's a tide bit of plot and action if u squint, there's only One Bed. TWICE. but i'm cruel so no sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:35:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25788949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalie19h34/pseuds/natalie19h34
Summary: Eliott joins Lucas in the deepest woods to accomplish a mission. The order was given by a nameless criminal organization and things are a bit tense, yet the job doesn't seem to be too challenging. At first. Circumstances change short-term and Lucas has to make an irreversable decision.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 16
Kudos: 68





	étoiles chaudes et pensées froides

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OnyourRadar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyourRadar/gifts).



> This story was distantly inspired by The Blacklist, The Last of Us and my infinite love for winter. Thank you mtea for providing motivation; I hope you'll like it! <3  
> (not beta-ed and I only once proof-read it bc I'm a mess when it comes to reading my own stuff. Hopefully potential mistakes aren't too grave)

Transition is hard, Lucas thinks. Fluency is hard. When you are floating through the gaps between the extremes, it tears at your body; it is exhausting. But most of all it is confusing and lets you doubt the reality; if there ever was one, to begin with. It feels like being in a room full of mirrors and having to look at alternative versions of yourself, all trapped in one mind and body; flesh and soul. 

He isn't nervous all that often; excited even less, these days, when it comes to meet ups. He still feels it overtake his entire being ever since he's sent him his coordinates and it's just a matter of time, by now. Arrival somewhere between seven- and nine hundred and it makes Lucas huff out a laugh how there's exactness and inexactness in equal measure in the way he mentally words this span of time. 

Although it's officially supposed to only be business related, he unintentionally gets his hopes up and senses returning juvenile giddiness accompanied by an all too familiar ache. It's always been hard for him to interpret the mixture; his cynical side would like to call it naivety and desperation, but it really might just be the continuously surviving wish for warmth. 

He's persuaded himself that he's managed okay, so far. The occasional ups and downs, setbacks and progresses, lost gaps and regular enjoyment. It's never been quite it, but he's survived more and longer than he'd ever thought himself capable of. Especially with the career he's chosen. 

He's awake since a few hours, stood up as the sky was still illuminated by stars and the faint glow of the moon, the air undeniably chilly and interspersed with thickly white snowflakes. 

Winter has always been one of his favorite times of the year, its ability to cloak and cover and conceal a welcomed contribution to his safety. 

It's not like he he doesn't crave to be seen; the want to put himself on full display after years and years of hiding and anonymity growing stronger in these glacial months. Yet building and maintaining connections on a solely personal level simply can't be afforded. He needs his mind to be sharp. Any sort of distraction, however small it might be, could cause a chain reaction at the end of which he might lose more than just some promised money. 

He can't allow himself to let Eliott get to him the way he's always done. 

Fuck, he's so tired. 

There isn't much he can do right now anyway, so he lies down on the bed in the far corner of the compact forest hut, cracking firewood fighting against the silence he's surrounded with. 

Hands sprawled on his stomach, Lucas closes his eyes, takes a deep breath; in, out. In, out.  
His heart beats fast, anticipation and persistent tension a constant companion in this métier. 

In moments like this, he's wondering how exactly he's landed himself there. He used to be short-tempered and grew up in a shady neighborhood, sure, but working as some sort of freelancer for divers criminal organizations is a far reach and not necessarily something he's envisioned his life to almost entirely consist of. 

He's good at what he's doing, that is. 

It's not like parenthetically hoarding sensitive information of inter alia also rivaling parties over the past few years didn't turn him into a target. But he's built up a reputation. And besides, he's skilled, which entails being able to ensure staying alive perfectly fine, as well. 

Three knocks on the wooden door of the cabin have him hold his breath for a second. 

Lucas sits up, grabs the gun from his bedside table and makes his way in a few silent strides towards the window beside it. A brief look through the not quite closed curtain confirm his suspicion. He puts the gun in the back of the waistband of his jeans, braces himself and opens up. 

He can't help but stare. His mind tells him to better hold back and also jump right into his arms, but he's frozen on the spot, unable to even utter a greeting. 

Eliott still looks the same as he did fourteen months ago. Well, of course he does. His features too familiar; tall figure, light brown hair that could resemble a bird's nest, striking grays that turn into crescents as soon as they lock gazes; just like right now. Covered in dark layers and carrying a brown folder underneath his left arm. 

"Fuck, you're really hard to find", Eliott breaks the silence. "Took me a nearly two hours walk after the drive to this forest." 

Even his voice still manages to evoke a rush of pure warmth though Lucas' system. Higher than you'd imagine it to be, at first, and purely encompassing. He swallows and steps back in order to let Eliott in. 

"That's kinda the whole purpose of it. To be hidden." 

He'd like to apply more cockiness and sarcasm to his tone, but he's still too taken aback from sharing such close quarters with his first love, the one and only Eliott Demaury. He feels equally pathetic and euphoric. 

"Yeah, you gremlin. Did you have a lot to do since you're here?", Eliott says as he makes his way inside, scrutinizing the sparse interior curiously. 

Lucas closes the door, shutting out wind, coldness and involuntarily welcoming quietness, intimicy. 

"No. Technically I'm still on vacation. Did you veil your car?" 

He knows that Eliott isn't new to the game either, but he is, without wanting to show off, most definitely not as advanced and experienced as Lucas. 

"Of course I did. I wouldn't put you in any additional danger, Lucas. Never." 

Yeah.. Eliott's always had his way with words; the power to wrap anyone, including Lucas, around his fingers with only a prolonged look and a few melodious syllables. Goddamn, he really has to regain his composure and focus now. 

"We should start discussing the basic points of this next mission."

Eliott briefly hums as he takes off his thick winter jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. The air between them grows pregnant and suddenly all Lucas wants to do is flee. How ironic. 

Eliott saunters towards the small kitchenette, fills the kettle with water. After another few seconds he replies, tone cautiously neutral. 

"Skipping sweet- and smalltalk already, are we?"

Lucas scoffs, not unfriendly. 

"It's called setting priorities. And valuing efficiency. And besides, you couldn't sweet talk me even if you wanted to." 

That's a lie. A rather obvious one on top, but he usually is the last to give in. 

Eliott turns around, bracing his hands behind him on the counter. He's laughing, the sound of it making Lucas proud and he allows himself to let the feeling flow freely inside of him. 

"I see you've regained your snarky wit, mon cœur. I was worried my stunning sight would've rendered you speechless permanently." 

Lucas rolls his eyes and pointedly ignores the pet name. It's unsettling how easily they fall back into their casual banter. He's not used to instinctively trust another person, or even be happy to just talk to people. He might harbor multiple talents, but letting people see his innermost cravings and insecurities, opening up to someone, is something he's had to unlearn; for a variety of reasons. 

He's recently done it, though, is the thing. It's not clear to him how exactly; all he knows is that Eliott had split him open like a ripe fruit, ready to be devoured. Well, recently as in over a year ago, but still. Lucas has never been treated as tenderly as by Eliott, which let shame as well as suspiciousness arise, amongst many other emotions. 

He misses the confusing mixture, honestly. Icy temperature and cold-hearted clients only contribute to a well-known numbness. 

"It actually used to be the other way around, wasn't it? You always telling me how- how pretty you found me. And me arguing that you're just too sappy for your own good. Or did you forget, old man?" 

"No", Eliott retorts, holding Lucas' gaze with intent, "I remember everything we talk about, Lucas." 

He hates it. Being that vulnerable, that is. Repression usually worked in his favor as it blocked out memories too nauseating to relive, words too raw to repeatedly ponder about, thoughts too ugly and truthful to overanalyze. 

Oh but he holds these things so dearly; those which make him feel deeply and unapologetically. Why does he love them; though he despises feeling? 

And as they silently drink their tea, sitting across from each other at the rustic table near comforting heat, avoiding and searching, things are still complicated; tangled, sensitive. 

But it doesn't weigh down on him just as much, in this moment. 

They manage to infuse some professionality and go through the basic aspects of their upcoming mission. Lucas hasn't received much information regarding the matter, which is slightly odd, but not overly uncommon. They are supposed to steal confidential information from a shifty company that is rumored to have a branch office nearby. It's a secluded, run down warehouse as the surveillance images and map of the area show; no guards to be seen, but that doesn't have to mean anything.

"I think it's best we infiltrate it through the roof", Eliott suggests, pointing at a skylight of the building. He directs his eyes at Lucas and adds smirking "Are you still as agile?" 

Lucas raises an eyebrow, taking the pen that he'd been gnawing on prior from between his lips. 

"I'm not sure whether you're trying to offend my skills or my smartness with that second class innuendo of yours. What happened to your plan to sweet talk me?" 

"That's really all you can think about ever since I mentioned it, huh?" 

Eliott leans back in his chair, attitude emitting easy confidence. 

It's utterly annoying, really. 

"I should get rid of you. You're a pain in the ass", he mutters as a reply, as he grabs a folder he hasn't flicked through yet.  
"Oh so now we're-" 

"Save it", Lucas interrupts, restlessness welling up abruptly. He stands up, putting his mug in the dull, silvery sink. The window above fogged up on the edges. 

It's only been a few hours since Eliott's arrival and he already wishes for this whole matter to be over. It's not like he doesn't enjoy the company and casual flirting; he simply doesn't know what to.. do, or how to behave. Where to direct his emotions at. Feeling similar to a busy airport that's missing its control tower. 

It hasn't started snowing again, fortunately. Evergreens framing their solitary accommodation. He looks up at the white sky that appears as infinite width and depth, too enormous to not eventually get lost in. Maybe he's just unfit for any kind of relationship. Fuck, following this gloomy path won't lead him anywhere productive either, so he tries to put up a mental barrier between reality and possibilities and memories; present and future and past. 

Eliott's voice is laced with softness as it travels across the room, cadence a caress. 

"I'm sorry, Lucas, I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable", he apologizes and Lucas wants to turn around, meeting him in a crushing hug that silences the world around as well as inside of him for as long as he wants to. 

Yeah, he really should work on stabilizing and strengthening the barrier, shouldn't he. It's not working as well as it used to. 

The next message he gets has some final details included that confirm his thoughts; the job's not very challenging, he could've easily done it by himself. His clients demand results by Wednesday though. As in two days. 

"That means we'll have to have it accomplished sooner than expected. Preferably tomorrow in the morning." 

Eliott isn't wrong. Apparently the building's deserted somewhere between four- and eight hundred, guards being excluded. It comes in handy that it's still going to be dark due to the late sunrise during winter, so they likely won't be detected as easily. It's not a lot of time for detailed preparations, but he's convinced they'll manage just fine.

They discuss final points and open questions, Lucas adding firewood, sparsely. By the time they're done, extended darkness has permeated any stubborn whiteness. 

He finds the general aesthetic and ambience quite comfortable, even cozy. Having concluded productive work usually always lifts his mood; he likes seeing results, being useful and precise, reasonable, neat. Being in control of his actions and the happenings he's confronted with. He hasn't completed the more than demanding training for nothing, after all. 

Lucas stands up from his cross-legged position on the floor, that he's gravitated to at some point of their discussion. Stretching his arms above his head that he tilts up towards the ceiling, he acknowledges the stiff muscles with a low groan. 

He's tried to not acknowledge Eliott as much but it got harder the more minutes passed. 

"Wanna go catch some fresh air?", he gets asked, finally. 

They step outside the cabin and into the soundless scenery, glacial air causing their breaths to become visible. Lucas rubs the palms of his hands against each other, before he puts them into the secure insides of his pockets. A faint glow from the inside of the building lights the way in just a few meters radius around it, but he didn't intend on going on a long walk anyway. 

It feels freeing to be under the night sky, far away from any city silhouettes or obtrusive neon lights and in this exact moment, striving beside Eliott, breathing in clear cold oxygen, he has to admit that he could get used to it. It's a novum. 

They're circling the cabin a few times, slowing down with every round until Lucas doesn't feel like they're moving forward at all; as if time gets more vicious in return. He looks at the stars that shine enticing and numerous, burning brightly. 

Sometimes Lucas is so separated from the world around him, still, that he forgets he's not always alone. Physically, that is. Which is why he slightly startles as Eliott speaks up. 

"From time to time I'm wondering what my life would like if I followed my former passions. Make art. Express myself. Did you have a passion, too, Lucas?" 

Lucas licks his lips, hunching a little. 

"I guess I did, yes. Art related as well, funny enough" 

"Which was it?", Eliott asks in a whisper.

And he would like to answer and share this part of his younger self with him. He chooses to shrug, instead. Maybe things don't always have be spoken out loud, in the end. It was a long time ago and feels like a dislodged part by now; barely connected to him. 

"I feel empty. As if I donated blood.", Eliott continues. "My job isn't exactly as.. physical as yours. It's draining nonetheless." 

The exhale which follows right after is loud, maybe even frustrated.

Lucas admires Eliott's ability to speak so freely, so he tries it with honesty: "It's not too late for you." He draws pattern into the snow with the tip of his shoe. 

"And for you?" 

It's obvious, he thinks. Mayhaps undead hope cued the question, although he can't really see the intentions behind it. 

"I've walked for so long, there's no light in the maze anymore."

"Eliott. Eliott wake up." 

Lucas bends down a little from his position on the small bed, poking at Eliott's cheek, who lays beside him on an air mattress on the ground and refuses to leave the world of dreams. It's dark inside the wooden hut, features only illuminated by the silvery glean of the moon. 

Lucas sighs and pokes a tide bit harder. An unsatisfied grunt and a waking Eliott are the result, which Lucas records as a victory. 

"We have to go", he quickly informs him, as he stands up from cot and puts on warmer clothing. 

"Fuck, I'll never get used to this", Eliott complains behind him and the whiny quality of his tone makes Lucas smirk. 

"Still not much of a morning person, huh?" His smile falters after the accidental annotation and its attached implication, but Eliott seems unfazed. 

"Ugh not at all. How do you do it, anyway?"

"I like watching the night die. And to see it reborn as day."

Eliott huffs, not unfriendly. "That's more poetic than I'd have given you credit for."

"It's something my mum used to tell me. Now get up," he adds as he throws Eliott's jacket at him, "we have things to do, old man."

They had decided to only use a single headlamp - Lucas' - for safety and inconspicuousness reasons. Lucas also wears the backpack with their equipment and all of their belongings, which really aren't many, since they don't plan on coming back to the cabin after the mission. Eliott's car is closer to the storage hall, albeit closer is relative, in this case. It's still a long walk. The white masses squeak beneath their soles, the wind letting the skin in his face prickle. 

Lucas's fully focused on the task ahead, his mind occupied by nothing but their decided strategy, which holds a certain calmness in itself. He takes a quick look to his left and sees the same determination on Eliott's face. They have to work fluidly and unitly now. 

Less than halfway through the forest, Lucas' phone vibrates with an incoming message. He frowns as he opens it, scanning the few numbers - codes - with practice. He stops dead in his tracks. 

22-0321-101

Plan's changed. Eliminate subject 21. Job solo.

That's what the numbers mean. Lucas knows this, but it takes him a moment to truly grasp what he's ordered to do. 

"Is everything alright?" 

Lucas raises his eyes, opens his mouth as if there are even words to utter. Eliott stands a few meters away from him; five at maximum. Damn, he's already considering it, isn't he.  
His heart races inside the ribcage, blood rushing in his ears, adrenaline making things sharp and blurry at the same time. Why now? Why this short-time change of things? 

But he has an inkling, already. History tends to repeat itself and some primordial criminal organizations undoubtedly value unoriginality and call it order of things, or whatever other bullshit. He gulps and puts his phone away. 

The mechanism is exercised until perfection; smooth yet effective motions, calculations and estimations, timing and the element of surprise and really, maybe it shouldn't be so easy. He has overpowered Eliott in a matter of seconds, Eliott having been pushed onto the ground, forced to lie on his back with Lucas on top of him, straddling him. 

The edge of his hunting knife at Eliott's throat. 

The headlamp shines directly in Eliott's face, stressing pure, initial shock; wide eyes, parted lips and ragged breathing. His hands have reflexively gripped at Lucas chest, fingers tight in the material. 

Time feels surreal. He can't even tell why he's still sitting on top of Eliott. As if he were frozen in this position. 

"Are you going to kill me now, Lucas?" 

It's nothing but a low whisper, constricted pupils staring and refusing to break eye contact. He objectively might be the threat out of the two of them, but he feels trapped, wants to turn his gaze away, shut his lids. He swallows.

He slightly increases the pressure, sharp blade penetrating the skin and drawing a few drops of scarlet red. All it would take is a precise motion of his wrist. He's done it before, it's not a first. And still, a slight tremor runs though his system, forcing him to tighten his grip around the handle. 

Eliott's movements are slow and cautious, his grip migrating from chest to waist, sneaking underneath his clothes, fingertips cold but burning on his skin. The contrast in action is so violent that his body doesn't even feel like it's his. 

"It's a test", Lucas blurts out. "And a trap." 

His breathing is ragged and he's close to systemic overstimulation. Fuck! He rapidly pushes himself off and away from Eliott, hand tearing off his wool hat and running through the strands. He forcefully leans against the nearest tree, puts the knife away and blinks rapidly. The consequences that he'll have to deal with…

In the corner of his vision he sees Eliott sit up, elbows resting on his knees and fingers lightly touching the maroon line on his neck. The material of both their trousers has to be soaked by now and he wants to laugh at wet clothing being apparently being a thought of priority. 

He slides down the bole, mimicking Eliott's position. 

"You've been ordered to kill me?" 

It's toeing the line between disbelief and matter of factness, barely hints of rage, which Lucas would find to be an appropriate emotion to feel in this case. 

"They deliberately sent you to join me. I could've finished it on my own, but the opportunity was favorable." 

His mind resembles an oppressively stuffed place all the same, but logic often functions as a guideline for him. 

"Did you see or do something you shouldn't have seen or done? Did you know you're in trouble?" 

Eliott looks at him and shakes his head, tracing his lips with a finger; a tell-tale sign his mind's racing, too. 

"We should make use of the time window we have and go." 

That's.. unexpected. Lucas is dumbfounded for a moment. 

"What? What do you mean?" 

"You won't kill me, will you?"  
Now it's Lucas' turn to shake his head no. 

"So we'll have to flee. We don't have many options, unfortunately." 

Eliott gets up, Lucas follows shortly after. 

"No. No, Eliott, you'd have to live a life in the shadows from then on." It's a stupid plan. He just threatened his life, they can't just run away together! 

"I don't care. There's barely anything I would miss. And they want me dead anyway, right?" 

Fuck. 

"Not many options, huh." 

Lucas can't believe he agrees to this. It doesn't feel like these happenings are even real; untouchable, unreachable. And most definitely unreasonable. 

"Lucas. We have to use these hours wisely now."

"I know!" He hurries to contribute. He is a little out of it. A flight. Together. 

"Okay. My car isn't far away; we'll use it and drive away, to an unknown place - a motel, preferably. Somewhere we can sleep and figure out our next steps."

He stares at Eliott, admiration palpable inside of him, again. How can he be so sure and fearless? Projecting the necessary stability for Lucas to let his trained personality slowly take over. 

"I know a place, in the south. It's far away, though."

"So we better get started, then."

And like that, it's a done deal. Lucas periodically glances at the time on his phone and they reach Eliott's car, veiled by position and tarp, soon enough. 

Things have been decided so fast that Lucas is glad the empty road ahead of them presents the possibility of a grounding sensation. Driving has always had a calming effect in him and he appreciates let him behind the wheel. The simple act of control works wonderfully as a starting point. He disregarded the instructions and it's not like these people are known for their forgiveness. Living in the shadows naturally has been a part of this life he more or less chose, however having the reputation of a man who translates into action whatever his clients demand has helped him stay alive just fine. 

And now.. 

Now he doubts his every step. It's new territory altogether. 

A brief look confirms that Eliott's still asleep, however he managed that. It's calming, too. Maybe.. with their combined qualities.. they could somehow make it work. 

And stay alive. 

He parks the car behind a motel a couple of hours later and exhales. It's almost noon, already, and he's tired. 

"I'll check in. Give me your fake ID", Eliott declares and takes it from Lucas. "Valentin, really? You don't look like a Valentin."

Lucas rolls his eyes. 

"What are you, then? An Alexandre? Gabriel?" 

"Victor. They both start with a V. You think that's coincidence?" He winks and gets out of the car. Winks. Eliott's unbelievable, really. 

The room is neither as small nor as sparsely decorated as the cabin, but not much of an upgrade either. It's cheap, though, and nondescript. It's perfect. There's a double bed, so at least the both of them can sleep on an object that's classified to be called a decent mattress. 

They take turn showering and the warm water as well as the fresh soap help to relax his tense muscles a little. Whenever he's under the spray of water, he stops thinking and just is, which is why he occasionally drags out the process longer than required. 

There's only he and the water; the world - both, inner and outer - can wait. 

When he exits the shower, dries himself and puts on clean clothes, Eliott's waiting in the bedroom for him, sitting on his side of the bed. 

"Lucas. Come here, please" 

He briefly closes his eyes and gives in, then. He's just so exhausted, he doesn't want to argue any further now.  
Mood swings came and went, albeit they've significantly increased as of late. Maybe he should try going on a vacation for real; well, in a parallel universe where he doesn't have to hide, run, flee. 

Eliott's extended his arm, taking Lucas' hand and drawing him near, right into his lap.  
Oh. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to assume", he apologizes and drags his fingers lightly across Lucas' cheek; the other hand resting on his hip. "You didn't liquidate me, so I took it as a good sign?" 

It sounds like a question, so he nods.  
He instinctively grabbed the front of Eliott's hoodie, he realizes as his sensory feelings make their way to his consciousness.  
It's a macabre parallel to their positions in the forest, earlier. It's also a flood of impressions for his senses and a buried desire. They've been close before; closer, even. Lucas rarely ever thinks back to these bare and intimate moments, simply because the absence of it later would've caused too much hurt, is what he thinks. Being pulled in like that with such an amount of naturalness seems wrecking. 

Eliott smells of honey and heat and the combination makes Lucas' head spin. 

"I missed you", he confesses. "I couldn't, like, eliminate you." The explanation is accompanied by an unpleasant aftertaste; but he isn't innocent. He's committed atrocities in his life.

"I missed you, too." Eliott's grip tightens. "So much." He then plants a kiss right between Lucas' eyebrows. And his eyes, which closed on their own accord. His left one gets greeted first, then the right one. 

And maybe it's the absurdity of their situation, the remnants of adrenaline, a jumble of emotions. Transition is hard. He made a first step willingly and unwillingly in equal capacity. He's still floating and trapped. He can't allow himself to think further than the next couple of hours and scared in spite of his experience. He can't trust people, even less than before; and he doesn't even trust himself in absent moments. He's not exactly sure if he's bracing himself for a fight or flight, in the end. 

And he kisses Eliott right back.

**Author's Note:**

> Never thought I'd write this, but here we are. I'd be happy about kudos or comments, if you enjoyed it!  
> (@nachtumringt on tumblr)


End file.
